


By Any Other Name

by smooth_shadow



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Angry Solas, Dirty Talk, Dom Solas (Dragon Age), Enemy Lovers, F/M, Face-Sitting, Hate Sex, Knife Play, Like, Lots of Angst, Multiple Orgasms, Name-Calling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Power Exchange, Power Play, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut, Solas (Dragon Age) Angst, Teasing, absolute bastard! solas, but no blood, elvhenan kinks, eventually, for all parties, fun dialogues and all, i was just too inspired by that one solas quote, its based on the new concept art released actually, its very mild really, so there is some dubious consent, the usual, this is villain! solas btw, u know - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooth_shadow/pseuds/smooth_shadow
Summary: "They call me the Dread Wolf. What will they call you when this is over?"Well, I heard that quote in Bioware's new teaser trailer and I *could not resist.* Set in an imagined setting for the upcoming DA game (Dread Wolf Rises) with a purposefully generic OC because, like, I am going off of very few concept hints here. Working off of the assumption that Solas is a villain, the OC doesn't like him much and is approaching him as a villain, but there are ~layers~Anyways, great hate sex ensues. Villainous, brooding, angsty Solas is too good to pass up.
Relationships: Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Solas & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhh so i did NOT intend to post DA smut so quickly back to back but then bioware had to drop that new teaser for the upcoming game and i could not stop myself for the life of me. that ONE solas line they gave us, i mean, come on....
> 
> anyways. enjoy x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh so i did NOT intend to post DA smut so quickly back to back but then bioware had to drop that new teaser for the upcoming game and i could not stop myself for the life of me. that ONE solas line they gave us, i mean, come on....
> 
> anyways. enjoy x

~*~

“They call me the Dread Wolf. What will they call _you_ when this is over?” I can’t shake the feeling that he’s towering over me, even though he’s seated. At the far end of the cave. With his back turned. Though this, I remind myself, is his domain. Veilfire coats the walls, sending unearthly light through the hollow darkness, and my skin crawls. Magic. I hate the stuff.

“What would you prefer?” But this is his domain, and I need to learn more. How he answers this question will tell…

“You forget preference, once you reach a certain age. Though you wouldn’t know,” he sighs. His face is obscured, but I can feel his momentary lapse into thought, somewhere far away. He comes to. “They can call me what they wish; all that matters is that I still know how to answer.”

Ah. As if the posh accent wasn’t already enough to code him as a narcissist. And the decorative furs. And the whole “becoming a supervillain and trying to destroy the whole world” thing, of course. So I try to dig deeper, stepping closer to him, trying to quell my own rising fear.

“You spent a while living as ‘Solas,’ though. You probably grew to like it.”

“It was a name.” Have I touched upon a sore subject, perhaps?

“One you chose for yourself?” No answer. I step closer. “Strange way to name yourself, if you did. _Solas._ Pride. You know what I think? I think there’s a part of you, a big part of you, that likes the name.”

A twitch of the ear, a small tilt to his head. “Which one?” He asks. There’s a lightness to his voice, a slight scoff, but it’s forced.

“You tell me, Fen’Harel.”

“A curious line of reasoning.” He turns to me, then, and shows no surprise at finding me 5 feet closer to him than I was before. His eyes reflect the intensity of the veilfire around him, and I have to hold back from shuddering at his gaze. “So you wish to imply that I prefer the title?”

“Don’t you miss it, though? The culture, the beauty. The power of a movement surging beneath you. The women, too, I bet…”

Something clicks in his mind. He smiles, “If you think you can win this war by appealing to my baser desires, you are mistaken, hero.” But his Adam’s apple bobs, telling of his growing discomfort.

“And yet,” I fall to my knees, letting myself kneel before him. It’s obscene. I continue, taking his hand and gently raising it to my lips, “Isn’t that what you’ve been searching for, all this time? A way back to the way it all was before?” I place a kiss on his warm, papery skin, looking up at him all the while.

A faint expression of surprise ghosts over his face, but no immediate revulsion. No calling for the guards. No rash action. So I turn his palm over, and kiss his wrist. “A way back to the days when you were a God?” I press my tongue into is palm, then, as if I am eating out of his hand. It’s obscene, but I know that it isn’t his base desires that I’m really appealing to. It’s his ego.

Somethings snaps, and he retracts his hand, suddenly, turns away. For a moment, the cave is silent, save for the steady whisper of the veilfire. I study his profile, the hidden perfection of it - the arch of his forehead, the straight line of his nose - as if he were sketched by a skilled painter. He closes his eyes, breathes. There’s an unpleasant, though barely noticeable twist to his lip.

“So you wish to know what it is like to follow a God, is that it?” His voice is dark, heavy.

“No. I want to know what it is like to follow you,” and then, because it feels like I need to push even more, “Show me how you did things in Elvhenan, Fen’Harel.”

At that statement, I can see him break. His brows crease, the twist in his lip grows deeper, and he stands, abruptly, coming towards me.

“I was _not_ Fen’Harel in Elvhenan. I never was. That name they gave me after, once the whole world had crumbled around me.” His hands grasp my hair as he brings his face level with mine, barely-placid anger spilling across his features. Still, his voice remains low, unbelievably controlled as he spits, “But you wish to come here, and pretend to know my mistakes, and why I committed them? You wish to know what it’s like to serve one of the Elvhen gods? _Avys esaya gera assan i’asa’av’ingala._ ”

He straightens and brings my head forwards, forcing my face into the crease of his thigh. It’s far away from his groin to be sexual, but close enough to let me feel his arousal, watch his member strain against the slacks he wears.

“You cannot know what you are saying-“ But I cut him off, my hands quickly wrapping around his erection. He looks down at me in shock.

“Go on, then,” my voice comes out labored, muffled against his pants, “Prove me wrong.”

I’ve goaded him far enough. He doesn’t snarl or growl, and his eyes don’t flash with sparks of lightning and the spirits of the Old Gods don’t suddenly materialize by my side, but somehow his steely expression is more terrifying than any mythic occurrence ever could have been. He lets go of my head.

“Undress me.” But when my fingers begin to inch towards his waist, I feel a sudden, invisible force snap my wrists behind my back. Good. They stay there, immovable, but I make a show of struggling, pushing my chest out.

“Undress me,” he repeats, and I know what he wants: I pull his pants down with my teeth. His cock brushes against my face, and I give it a lick, watching it grow.

Fen’Harel’s hand slide into my hair again, and I open my mouth, obedient. He places the head of his cock on my tongue, lets it sit there as he looks down at me. Another mind game, and I look back at him as I lean down and scrape my teeth across his head.

I see him shudder, the muscles in his lower abdomen fluttering, and with a groan he jams his cock into my mouth. It’s brutal, and he bottoms out in just a few thrusts, but I take it, letting the spit pile at the corners of my mouth. Obscene.

He pulls out just as abruptly, leaving trails of saliva smeared across my lips, before pushing me up and onto my back, securing my hands above my head this time. He pulls down my top, exposing my breasts, and quickly rids me of my pants and undergarments as well. I’m left exposed before him as his gaze rakes over me, taking me in.

“I thought the Elvhes always took everything so slow,” I goad him. I don’t want him to run out of steam.

“Not the so-called Gods. Not to their slaves,” he spits.

And then he’s inside me, and I can’t help crying out. His cock pierces me, filling me completely. Gods, I didn’t realize how wet I had been. I didn’t realize how much this game had actually been turning me on.

His magic comes next, pulsing over me in waves. It slides down my skin, traces the outline of my waist, and snakes inside me in time with his heavy thrusts. I feel it pushing against the walls of my cunt, feel it pushing around my clit with pulsing intensity. I feel it everywhere, washing down my body. It’s weird. It’s mind-bending. But it’s also so, so good.

“So you want to know what it is like to fuck a God?” He whispers, “You want to know what it is like to be _fucked_ by a God, hero?”

There’s sweat on his brow and his eyes are clouded as he continues pounding into me, his breath coming in short bursts. He must be close, and I try to push him closer, squeezing around him, writhing and arching my back as I nod.

“Fen…” I can’t even get the name out completely. Shit, I need to get myself together.

“Is this what you imagined, then, being spread like a wanton whore before her master? The degradation? The force? The violence?” There almost seems to be a genuine note of surprise in his voice. But I still push him further, pressing against him, watch him as the dam bursts and the orgasm hits.

At that moment, as I feel his seed hitting against me, again and again, as I watch his face contort in release, I feel the bonds on my hands weaken. I feel the magic across my body flicker, and I take the moment to strike.

Two seconds later, I’m straddling him, pinning his weakened hands below me with my knees, a dagger I slipped out of my boot held to his throat. To say that he looked shocked would be an understatement.

“ _This_ is what I imagined, Dread Wolf. A God, being _fucked_ by a hero,” I spit his words back at him, breathless. A stunned silence. I feel the weight of myself pressing down on him, the smooth plane of his chest. His eyes, flung open in surprise, cast in my shadow.

He blinks, as if finally coming out of his haze somewhat. “Perhaps… Perhaps it is what I deserve.” He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob again, watch him wet his dry lips. His eyes are glazed. A bead of my sweat drips down my nose and onto his.

A realization crests over me. “Fucking shit. This is what you love too, isn’t it? The tension of betrayal. Of fallen pride. Fucking your enemy and finding yourself underneath her knife. You, Solas. And the Inquisitor…”

He shifts his hips, clearing his throat, and I briefly feel something press against my back. He’s…?

I press the blade tighter against his throat as I whisper, aghast, “Who _are_ you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the one string of elvhen translates to "you would catch an arrow between your teeth," which is dalish for moron, which doesnt even really make sense because solas hates the dalish, but i am not imaginitive enough to create a whole language like fenxshiral did. whoops
> 
> i was also toying with the idea of folding in more thoughts on the complexities of the inquisitor/solas relationship, bc it would make for some fantastic angst, but it didnt fit in the flow of things :( mayb i will work it in later 
> 
> anyways, thoughts on that teaser trailer btw???? "some people want to kill him, some want to marry him, and some want to both????" almost implies that we will have the option to do both eye????


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two.

~*~

His breath is ragged, and I dimly feel the rise and fall of his chest below me.

“I- I do not know,” he finally answers. It feels like the only honest response I’ve gotten so far. Well, that along with the _something_ pressing against me from behind with a growing insistence…

I shift my hips, unable to stop the brief flush of heat that flashes through my face. The movement reminds me of my own stifled need, triggered by the rough pull from the fabric of his shirt. I bite my lip. I can’t help it.

“So tell me,” I begin, and I can’t stop the slight teasing shade to my voice, “Do I look like her right now? Mistress Lavellan… Did she do this for you, hold her daggers against your throat?” I twist my wrist, slightly, watching him take in a sharp breath as the blade points to his chin. He’s silent. “Answer me, Solas.”

He shakes his head.

“Use your words. You’ve got such a pretty way of talking, after all.”

“N-not quite.” His voice is strained, needing. He clears his throat.

“Do you wish she did?”

He pauses. I raise an eyebrow.

“…Yes,” he exhales. I shift slightly, sending vibrations up my thighs again, and begin to lean down towards him.

“You know, you’re a poor lover, Solas,” my voice dips smoother, lilting, a poor imitation of his own. Something about this is too addicting. “Leaving me high and dry like that.”

I’m inches away from his face, now, the knife still at his throat. His eyes look up at me, pupils wide and wanting. I press the blade deeper, almost cutting skin.

“So no funny business,” my voice drops, cold and menacing. “No magic, no disappearing into the night, no tricky shit, ‘kay? I beat you, fair and square. This isn’t the battle.”

“Isn’t it?” Cocky fuck.

“Would you rather I slit your throat right now, just to be safe?”

“…No,” he concedes. It took him too long to answer that one, but I’ll trust him, for now. I’ve got tricks of my own, after all.

After a beat, I close the gap, giving him a small kiss on the lips. Just possessive enough to remind him who’s on top, quick enough to prove to him that I’m in control. I swear he almost moans into me.

“Arms up. Or do I have to tie you up?”

His conflicted expression makes me grin.

“Arms up,” I tell him again, “And we’ll see how it goes.”

He places his arms above his head obediently, crossing one wrist over the other with practiced ease. I take them in my left hand, look down at him as I prepare to remove the knife from his throat. It’s hard to believe that he’s down there like that, the regal arch of his brow, and here I am removing my only bit of leverage from his weakest point.

Hopefully not my only bit of leverage. Hopefully not his weakest point.

Still, after a moment of indecision, I finally raise the dagger and place the handle in between my teeth. Easy access, may he never forget it.

With that out of the way, I’m free to rise up and swing my legs over each side of his head, ready to push myself through those last few barriers towards orgasm. As I lower myself, I find his mouth already open, and the first contact of his tongue against my center makes me shudder and moan.

My thighs spasm around his head as I feel him begin to move, tracing patterns around and on my clit. When I grind down against him, his tongue dips into me, teasing, millimeters away from my G-spot.

“Fuck,” I moan, and my grip on his wrists falters. One of his hands breaks free, and my panic spikes until I feel it land on my hip, pulling me closer to him.

Solas moves with renewed vigor, building a steady pattern for me to grind against, guiding me with his hand. I feel him hitting my clit again and again, sparking that same pleasure over and over. His nails dig into my flesh. Any time now, it’s got to catch…

And when it does, I squeeze myself around him, feeling his continued movements below me as I crash through one long wave of pleasure. I can barely stay upright as the orgasm rips through me, anchoring myself by holding onto his remaining wrist, feeling his other hand steady me.

I’m proud of the fact that I didn’t moan any of his names, new or old. I’m guilty that I wanted to, though.

I ease myself off of him, hearing him pant, taking the dagger from my teeth as I catch my breath.

“ _Isalan deras em aron tuelan._ Please…” I hear him plead, and open my eyes to see his lips slick with my juices. I look down the length of his body, catching a glimpse of his toned abs to see his straining erection.

“Ah, but you have to stay nice and still…” I purr, making my way down to his hips. I trace the knife down his abs, admiring the way his muscles flutter as the cold metal passes over them. I continue teasing him, dragging the blade over his hipbones, tracing the tender skin. Finally, my knife finds the base of his cock.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

I get only a groan in response.

My other hand wraps around his head, making him flinch. I tap the knife twice against him, gently. “You better stay still, Fen’Harel.”

“Please, let me…” he rises up, slightly, to look at me. I shoot him a look back.

“What did I say, Dread Wolf?”

His expression is blank. I shift myself, placing my legs on both sides of his hips as I face him.

“I said I was going to be the one doing the fucking. Not you. Now lie back.”

With hesitation, he lowers his head. The moment he breaks eye contact, I push down on him, taking his length into myself. His cock slides in easy against my slick walls, but Solas has difficulty, crying out and arching his back.

The blade finds his hip again, threatening. “Remember what I said.”

He nods, trying to fight his urges, as I slowly begin to move up and down against him. The movement is delicious, and I take my time, watching him sweat.

Picking up the pace, I begin to close greater and greater distances between us, pushing harder and harder against his cock. Solas moans appreciatively with each thrust as I squeeze around him, sliding up and down. Beside myself, I forget about the knife, raising a hand to my nipples instead. I moan (for the second? third? tenth? time that night. It seems I’ve been here an eternity) as I feel an orgasm build again.

Solas is there with me, thrusting back into my pussy despite my warnings, his breathing heavy and wanting. The muscles in his thighs strain. I squeeze my nipples and grip his hips.

We come together on one long exhale, pushing against each other, and then quickly come apart. The pleasure still radiating through my thighs, we lay next to each other. I carefully grip the dagger by my knife.

“You called me all three names,” he finally breaks the silence.

“Am I not allowed to?”

“Here I was, thinking we could not achieve a compromise.”

I laugh. “Is that how you resolved disputes in Elvhenan?”

He turns to look at me, mirth playing across his face. “You did say you wantd to know, did you not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELVHEN GUIDE II:   
> ISALAN DERAS EM ARON TUELAN: “I lust for you touch me like God” 
> 
> gotta say, it was incredibly difficult to keep that dirty talk from going into pure "youve been a bad boy, havent you? yeah, you tried to tear down the entire universe, so baaaaad" territory. bc thats all it really is at its core, isnt it? sigh. 
> 
> anyways, heres part 2. i dont write femdom too often so i hope it still holds up.

**Author's Note:**

> the one string of elvhen translates to "you would catch an arrow between your teeth," which is dalish for moron, which doesnt even really make sense because solas hates the dalish, but i am not imaginitive enough to create a whole language like fenxshiral did. whoops
> 
> i was also toying with the idea of folding in more thoughts on the complexities of the inquisitor/solas relationship, bc it would make for some fantastic angst, but it didnt fit in the flow of things :( mayb i will work it in later 
> 
> anyways, thoughts on that teaser trailer btw???? "some people want to kill him, some want to marry him, and some want to both????" almost implies that we will have the option to do both eye????


End file.
